I don’t write in a journal everyday, but I have accumulated many entries over the past 50+ years beginning in 1966. Some items evolved into longer works. Among the leftovers little pieces survived. I thought a collection of these with a piece culled from the same date in a past year would make an interesting yearbook. The consistencies and inconsistencies of mind, skipping back and forth across time, provide varied perspectives. It is difficult to remember the context of the past we’ve lived; we also make suppositions about times that predate ourselves.

The few alterations from original drafts were to improve clarity. The worst of my work is not included. There remains enough mediocrity and immaturity to make me feel humble and you feel smart. There are also moments of accidental insight and incidental humor.

Author Stephen Crane referred to his little pieces as pills…apparently they were small and somewhat hard to swallow, but good for you.


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Thursday, November 29, 2018

I’m not sure but I think there was a time


From this week in November, 2013  (I was 68)

I’m not sure but I think there was a time
I should have downshifted and turned a corner
or maybe sped up in high to get somewhere fast
I could have sought advice or read some directions
I’m not even sure I didn’t do those things

There was a time the totality of life seemed easy
and only the insignificant particulars were difficult
The totality was in the hands and minds of others
adults who understood the situation I only perceived
a perception self-centered and foolish I knew

There was a time I could not give what I did not have
It was never correct to do that but it was a tradition
to tell the young to take care of the penny
and the dollars would take care of themselves
So now there’s a tarnished cent among the dirty dollars

I’ve never been anything if not presumptuous
thinking sooner or later to be of some worth
therefore worthy of tolerance until then
Now that I’ve not altered gear nor direction
everyday is too familiar to be somewhere else

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